Return to The Quarry

Chapter Sixteen

The Lodge was no longer the hokey, stereotypical rustic camp lodge it was when kids gathered there for meals and indoor camp activities. Now called the Stone Cutter's Lodge Tennis Club House, it had crossed over into a more glamorous iteration. More on the order of an upscale country club where the well-to-do would sip highballs around a roaring fire than a place where children made macrame necklaces and pinecone bird feeders.

White sheets covered high-end leather furniture, and accent lighting fixtures were installed over areas designated for dining. The wall of windows over which the balcony stretched had been replaced with floor to ceiling glass and an artistic chandelier made of glass globes that dangled at varying depths from a length of suspended railroad tie dangled above it. In the dark, Emma took in the change, not sure how to feel about it. As pleasant as it was, it wasn't the same place she had known during the safe, harmless days of camp.

Jacob was resistant to Emma following him on the sweep of the place, but relented. Once they checked the bathrooms, they secured the doors.

"It's clear," said Jacob. "We're good."

"This place has certainly had a decorator in." Emma sat on a leather sofa beside an unplugged artisanal lamp made from what looked like a phonograph's horn.

Jacob sniffed the air, not finding the smell of old fires and lemon oil soap. "It doesn't even smell the same."

"That may not be a bad thing." Emma smiled. "The library. Nurse Kelly's station. Mr. H.'s office."

"Remember the slumber parties we had when Mr. Hackett went fishing?"

"Can't believe we never questioned it." It all made sense in hindsight. So many things did now. Emma reached down and found the end of the lamp's cord. She went to plug it into a floor plug.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what are you doing?"

She blinked. "Um, turning on a light?"

"The guy out there with all the weapons will see us."

"Oh. Good point." She dropped the cord. "What should we do?"

Jacob's suggestion of looking for phones proved useless. There were jacks, just as there were in the hotel, but no phones. With that endeavor availing nothing, he suggested watching for the others and for the Man in the Hood.

"I wonder if the stairways are still open to the lofts up there. High up like that, we could see in two directions. And . . . keep an eye out for that guy."

Together, they crossed the ground floor of the lodge, heading for one of the staircases that led up to the balcony.

"Jacob," said Emma, "who do you think he is?"

"The psycho with the arrows? I don't know."

"You don't think this is some elaborate prank, do you? Like, the hotel owners are trying to scare us away from suing them or anything?"

Jacob didn't think so. They actually murdered Braden, which was worse than being sued from a law enforcement standpoint. And besides, if they feared the nine of them suing because of trauma, wouldn't this make it easily ten times worse?

"But I can't think of anyone really who would be out to kill all of us, Emma. Maybe he's some crazy ass squatter who is living here and is protecting his territory."

They came out on the second floor, over on the side where the bunkrooms were. It was now a lounge and library with a bar, but that was not of interest, at least not to Emma. Up on that level, she finally put her finger on something that seemed out of place the entire time.